Page 33 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

It’s the most precious thing in the world.

The bracelet he made me wraps my wrist with light pressure, just enough to know it’s there. The fingers of my other hand play over it, feeling the contrast between the smooth, polished wood, the slick glass surface of the black obsidian, and the soft feathers. It’s strong and beautiful and fits with my lifestyle in a way no dainty gold chain ever could.

No one’s ever made me anything before, especially not a guy.

Especially not myhusband.

As the sky darkens to purple, the brightest of stars appear.

Tiny blue dots wink on in the trees and start to move toward us.

“What are those?” I lean forward. “Fireflies?”

“Pixies.”

“Pixies are real?”

A clang comes from below, and Aurora yells, “If you don’t want every ogre and sluagh in the whole damned world to find us, you need to make this infernal thing stop glowing!”

“Oh, the lights!” I’m so used to the way the Ferris wheel is fully lit to compete for attention on the carnival’s bright midway that I didn’t even think about all the bulbs decorating the wheel. I stand as our basket dips back toward the ground, my hand on the lever that opens the door.

Branikk joins me, slinging his bow and quiver over his back.

We leap out onto the stone, easily visible in the light of the ride, which is impossible if I think about it. There’s no electricity for the light bulbs, just like there isn’t any for the motor. Magic, as Branikk would say.Mymagic. Will I ever get used to it?

I dodge between the moving cars to get to the controls and flip a switch, plunging us into darkness. Next, I slow the Ferris wheel and stop it right when two cars are at the bottom, each a couple of feet off the ground in a way that leaves an aisle in the center. I walk down it back out to the front.

Aurora stands on the next rock over, having leaped back across to give us room to get off the Ferris wheel.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” I wave toward one of the cars.

“Hardly,” she snorts.

“Come on,” Branikk says. “The view is amazing.”

“Well, I won’t know, will I?” she says grumpily. “You two rode until there’s no daylight left.”

“First thing in the morning, then,” I say.

“Perhaps.” She doesn’t sound convinced.

A cluster of blue dots darts out of the trees on this side of the river and head straight for us.

“No! Bring the pretty lights back!” a high voice shrieks. A tiny man hangs in the air in front of me, moth wings beating on his back. Everything about him glows light blue, his skin, his wings, his leaf clothes, and the shock of hair that stands straight up from his head like one of those old cartoons where someone gets electrocuted for laughs.

More of the pixies flutter around him.

Another group of blue lights appear from the other side of the river, racing toward me. “This is our special new thing, not yours!” a tiny woman cries. “We saw it first!”

The male pixie wheels around. “We got here first! It’s ours!”

Tiny silver swords appear in little fists, and suddenly they’re not innocently cute anymore. They’re still adorable, but it’s like a feral kitten with needle claws—they bristle with an edge of danger.

“Come now, there’s no need for battle,” Branikk says, his jovial voice cutting across their angry cries. “My bride’s creation is easily big enough for all to enjoy.”

“You made this?” the two head pixies say in unison as both groups of them turn toward me.

“You can conjure?” the man says.

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